Dies Non Levat Luctum
by deserts
Summary: Contrary to common believe, time does not heal all wounds.


**Dies Non Levat Luctum**

Dies Non Levat Luctum

There are moments when he stops perceiving, stops analysing, times when he stops being the jerk he is, stops popping pills, times when he thinks about what time has done to them. How they've changed during all the years they've known each other already.

He'd been a brilliant student back then, when he first got to know her. She'd been the most intelligent person he'd ever talked to. One of the very few people he'd talked to more than once in the first place. He'd never bothered talking to dumb people, and even though one would assume there are very few unintelligent people at med school, his view on intelligence is quite different from others.

He vividly remembers the day he met her.

_His steps echoed in the deserted corridors of the university. Nobody else was there at that time, so he was able to do research for his next project. Not many people shared this privilege of being allowed into the lab whenever they wanted. But apparently, she did. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the girl who was just about to abuse the lab equipment. _His_ lab equipment._

He entered the room silently, approached her as near as he dared and drew himself up to his full height.  
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice him until she actually turned around to jot down her most recent result. Against all expectation, she didn't scream in shock. She didn't so much as flinch_.  
"Yes?"_

He was at a loss for words. Nobody ever reacted to his sudden appearance that way!

"Did you just get in here to stare at me?"

When he still didn't speak, she turned back to her experiment, shrugging.

After a while, he tiptoed towards the device and started conducting his own tests.

She was done first; packed up her notes and left with a soft "See you".

And this was the start to their - admittedly... _unusual_ - relationship. They'd met up every week after that incident, always at the lab, doing their tests, without saying a word.  
It had become their ritual, a tradition they maintained until the day he received his degree.

Those days had been the best of his life. Not because of university, but because he'd finally found someone who accepted him the way he was. She didn't try to make conversation, didn't try to force him into convention. It was nice, it was _easy_.

Things have changed since then, time had gone by, he has hurt women, she's been hurt by men. But that isn't it. That is not the reason why they have changed, he knows that.

He just cannot pinpoint what it is.

He admits that he hasn't thought about her much after the time they'd gone separate ways. Not because he has not missed her, but because he has always been great at putting things aside that might hurt him. And losing his equal is certainly a matter that would end up hurting him if he spends too much time contemplating.

When they'd met again, and she was suddenly his boss, everything was different. They were so far apart, their invisible connection had torn, that bond they'd shared during their lab time. It was just "Doctor House" this and "Doctor Cuddy" that. Administrative questions, bossing around, ordering him to do his clinic hours. All cold and rocky.

During all the years they are working together now, they've gotten closer again, but that change has been agonisingly slow. Now they behave more like... he can't really find a word for what they are. They are constantly arguing, it is their keenest joy in life, although neither of them will ever admit to that.

Their changes... The first one had been fast, painful, like breaking glass, like a giant explosion on atomic level; not to be seen by others, but only to be noticed by themselves.  
The second one, back to how they used to be, or even close, had been so much smoother, a soft passage that you had to drive through at walking speed. Not more

Maybe she's found someone who means more to her. More than he ever could, being her subordinate, her own private jerk, her _toy_. Someone she only considers a constant pain in the neck. Not worthy of her attention in any matters aside from work.

Maybe she's been hurt too much. Hurt so many times that she's built up a wall not only around her heart but also around her _mind_. Hurt by men that didn't even get close to the entitlement to owning her, to deserving her.  
Maybe she's been hurt too much by _him_.

Maybe _he_ has been the one that changed the most, only that his change won't let him notice that her change has not been this deep, after all. He is sure finally becoming a doctor, a real doctor, made him change. How could it _not_ have? It has been his dream ever since he could think. And finally not being dependent on his father's money, on his good will. A freedom like this, it had been bound to make him change.

Maybe it is also Stacy's... would it be mean to say _fault_? She'd had a great influence on him, control over many things he did. Until the day she decided she'd looked after him long enough, and just went away.

Or it has been the alcohol. He's been drinking severely for a few months. Chances are that the whiskey has erased the last part of his soul - heart; leaving only a vacant spot, devoid of any happiness.

Whichever it has been - or maybe a combination of all, or something entirely different, it has made them change. _Time_ has made them change.

And there is nothing he can do, even though he would give everything that still exists of his lonely being to go back to their start.


End file.
